Kornicopia of Kaos
by BarkingPup
Summary: What if Johnny was always a little... off? Johnny's past. First fanfic. Using references to the comics. Chapter 9 up! See profile for updates ON HIATUS
1. And then there was Johnny

Disclaimer: I do not own Johnny, Jhonen Vasquez does.

I am missing books 2,5 of JTHM and all of I Feel Sick. I have read all of the Johnny comics, however and researched it to DEATH!

* * *

Mary and Oliver C. were discussing names. Or, rather, Mary was talking and Oliver was helplessly listening. 

"I think Daniel is a nice name, don't you honey?"

Oliver opened his mouth.

"Or what about Kyle?"

Oliver opened his mouth.

"Ooooohhhh, or Zane!"

Oliver rolled his eyes and sighed.

"What was that, sweetie?"

Oliver shook his head and motioned for her to continue.

"Or, or Nicholas!"

Oliver made a noncommittal grunt.

Mary glanced over at her husband. "Honey, you know this is really important to me but I don't just want it to be **my **decision. We're a team and I really do value your input."

Oliver gave her a strained smile. "Oh no, I'm perfectly fine. So, what was that last name?"

As Mary resumed her "name picking" Oliver leaned back in his chair and sighed. _I can't wait for this to be over._

* * *

Oliver scrambled to catch up to his wife's gurney. Her huffing and pained grunts eddied with doctors' voices and the creaking of the wheeled table. _Why does it have to be so soon?!_ Oliver moaned, trying to comfort his wife as she strangled his wrist. 

"I'M DYING! I'M DYYYYYIIING!"

"No, Mrs. C., you are not-Arghk!"

"Sweetie, I think it's rather hard for the doctor to breath while you're clutching his throat."

Mary turned a sweaty face to her husband. "What?"

"The doctor, honey, the doctor's... turning blue."

Mary released the man and he gasped in sweet, sweet air. Being a professional, however, he quickly regained composure and, but for a ring of bruises the exact size of Mary's fingertips, the altercation had never happened.

"Ahem, as I was saying you are not dying, Mrs. C., you are merely having a baby."

"Merely? MERELY?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY FUCKING MONTHS I CARRIED THIS PARASITE? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW GODDAMNED HARD I WORKED TO AFFORD ITS FUCKING POSESSIONS?! THIS THING HAS MORE TOYS THAN I EVER HAD IN MY WHOLE CHILDHOOD AND YOU DARE TO TELL ME SOME ARROGANT BULLSHIT ABOUT MERELY HAVING A BABY?!"

"Sweetheart, the nurse can't help you if you're trying to kill the doctor."

Mary turned toward Oliver but her husband had already exited the room and the nurse had snuck some drugs into her arm.

"Aaahhhhhhh..."

* * *

Oliver leaned against the hospital wall and sighed. The whole business of having a baby was absolutely exhausting. He could hardly imagine what Mary had gone through. He was startled out of his thoughts by a nurse holding some paperwork.

"Are you Mr. C.?"

"Yes."

"Your wife is currently out on painkillers and since she won't be coming around anytime soon we would ask you to complete the baby's paperwork."

"Right now?"

"It should be done as soon as possible... just in case."

Oliver shuddered and accepted the papers. He filled out the stuff he knew, such as his phone number and address but then he came across a puzzling line.

Baby's Name:

After a moment of hesitation he wrote down the one name he had not been able to voice, a name that bounced inside his skull like a mouse on crack:

Johnny.

* * *

There will be more and longer chapters... if I can figure out how to do this... 


	2. The Doctor Is In

Disclaimer: I do not own Johnny, Jhonen does.

"It's probably nothing-"

"No! It's not nothing! Listen, Honey... Olly, call it mothers intuition or whatever other bullshit but I **know **something's wrong with Johnny."

"He's only been in this world a few weeks, the place is scaring him. In a few months-"

"A few months! A few weeks! Other babies don't shriek when their mothers pick them up! Other babies smile at their mothers! Other babies don't cry all night long!"

"What about the Jameson's baby?"

"It didn't stay up all night, it only stayed up until about three in the morning. Johnny stays up all night just staring and screaming." Mary clutched the side of her head and moaned.

Worried, Oliver gathered her up in his arms and just held her, hoping she would take comfort in his presence. Mary looked up from the shelter of her husband's arms.

"I think we should take him to a doctor."

Oliver sighed, "Fine. You win, I'll set up an appointment with Doctor Ullstrom."

Mary hugged him tightly, "I love you."

"I love you, too"

* * *

Mary and Oliver walked into the waiting room for the clinic. Various children of many ages played with the toys. A few coughed, one had stitches on her forehead. There were even a few babies, sitting on their mothers knees, cradled in their mother's arms. Mary, too, held Johnny in her arms but he was bundled tightly with many blankets so he wouldn't start screeching at her touch. Mary tried not to look down at Johnny for she knew he wasn't sleeping even though his body didn't move. Johnny never slept. Mary had stayed up with him all night, not daring to touch him in case he started screaming, and watched her baby stare into the darkness, eyes luminous in the light of the moon. She had watched as he suddenly started shrieking, as if frightened by something only he could see. But she dared not pick him up to comfort him. She dared not reach out and caress his soft, baby cheek.

He had bitten her before. She had never told Oliver, too ashamed that her own baby had munched on her finger. He had screamed and screamed and screamed while she held him. She had tried again and again and again to get him to breast feed but all he did was scream. He didn't cry- no tears for Johnny- he just screamed himself hoarse. She had been so mad, so fed up with her baby she had clamped her hand on his mouth and yelled at him to shut up. And he bit her. He had no teeth, he was just a baby after all, but it still hurt considering he bit quite heavily. But that physical hurt was nothing compared to the mental anguish she felt at her actions. She had clutched Johnny, rocking him while he shrieked, saying she was so sorry, she was a good mother, sorry, sorry, sorry.

"Mr and Mrs C.?"

Mary and Oliver stood, Mary clutching the bulky bundle that was Johnny, and they entered the doctor's office.

Doctor Ullstrom stood and shook Mary and Oliver's hands. "Hello, Hello. Nice to see you again." He peered at the bundle. "And is this Johnny?"

Mary placed the baby on the (chair thing in the office whose noun I can't remember) and carefully unwrapped Johnny from his blanket prison. Johnny rolled his head to the side and stared with large (Black?) eyes at the doctor.

Oliver sighed. "We think something's wrong with him."

Doctor Ullstrom cocked his head, "and what do you see that is deviant?"

Mary, trembling slightly, reached out and lightly brushed Johnny's cheek. He howled. His limbs flailing in panic, he almost fell off the table. Mary immediately picked her baby up and steadied him. Johnny screamed louder, his flailing growing more pronounced, his tiny body twisting away from contact with his mother. Mary quickly placed him on the table once again and he immediately fell silent, his eyes following some imaginary thing on the roof.

Doctor Ullstrom let out a breath. "Wow. That's... quite interesting."

Tears gathered at the corner of Mary's eyes, "He barely eats, he doesn't sleep and he cries for no reason. I... I can't even pick up my own baby let alone feed him. Half the time he d-doesn't n-n-notice me and when h-he l-l-ooks i-i-it's like He's NOT SEEING ME!!!" She degenerated into loud sobbing. Johnny didn't seem to hear or see her poignant breakdown for his eyes still followed something no one else could see on the ceiling.

Doctor Ullstrom steepled his fingers and hmmmm'd. Oliver carefully comforted his wife, glancing over at the doctor with invisible pleading. Finally, Doctor Ullstrom sighed and reached into his desk drawer. He pulled out some forms and placed them on the table.

"I can do some tests to check for ailments and then for other, more mental abnormalities but I need you to sign these forms."

Mary sniffed and looked up at Oliver. "Please."

Oliver reached into his pocket and pulled out the ever present pen. "Where do I sign?"

((Does anyone know Johnny's eye color? I tried to sharpen the second cover in photoshop and it looked like green but it's not a very good picture. Sorry about the repetitive words (Scream, shriek, cry etc.) but their are only so many words... You'll have to get used to it, however, because Johnny does plenty of it ))

I have one fan! Yay!


	3. Wasn't Even Born 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Johnny

((This chapter is REALLY short. Then again, so is the next one. This one is sort of a little clip between Johnny and Mary))

((Thank you for the nice compliments Nights in a city

Thank you for faving, Zazu Hyena and Nny Fan

Insomnoid: Thank you I was sure people would notice but maybe that's because I wrote it and I notice.))

* * *

Mary sat in her Great Great Grandmothers' rocking chair. Her mother had given it to her. Her mothers mother had given it to her mother, and so on. It had aided the woman of the C. family in feeding and raising their children for generations. Mary's mother had sat on the same seat, rocking slowly, feeding Mary. And now Mary sat, holding a bundled up Johnny. Beside her, on a small table was a bottle, but it was untouched. Mary held Johnny up to her breast and watched with a sort of distracted preoccupation. It was almost a ritual, one that had been performed for no audience but the two of them. 

Johnny was silent, calm, eyes closed to guard against the sunlight that filtered through the curtains of the living room window. But he felt the proximity of something, a type of animal instinct and his eyes opened. Skin touched skin. He screamed.

Mary's lip trembled and silent tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. She calmly lowered Johnny from her chest to her lap and picked up the bottle. She hated the bottle. It almost seemed to mock her, telling her that she couldn't breast feed because she was weak. Every other C. female had breast fed, believing it to be healthier for the baby, to develop a bond between baby and mother. Suddenly angry she practically shoved the bottle into Johnny's mouth, not caring if she bruised him or not. No one was around to see for only she and Johnny were home. Oliver was at work. Mary was very lonely. She had a few girl friends but felt afraid to invite them over.

What if they saw Johnny? What if Johnny started crying? Would they think she was a bad mother? Would they pity her?

Mary glared at the baby in her lap. Wrapped like a mummy to avoid skin contact. Slowly drinking the milk that inhabited the bottle. Then finished, barely a quarter of the bottle empty. But he wasn't sleepy. Mary had seen other babies yawn and nap after feedings but Johnny just stared. Just stared and stared and stared. It unnerved Mary.

She hoped Johnny would get better. That he would be like a normal baby. It had been months after the first Doctor's appointment and they had called in Oliver and Mary to bring Johnny back, to take more tests. Yet nothing had been presented. No, "hi, how yah doin? By the way you're baby has brain cancer!" Mary glanced down at her silent, staring baby.

"What's wrong with you?" She whispered. Johnny didn't react.

A baby was supposed to be the best thing in someone's life. It had its ups and downs but in the end it was worth it.

All Mary could think was how much she wished Johnny didn't exist.

* * *

((Yay, I have three fans! Dare I ask... R&R?)) 


	4. Wasn't Even Born 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Johnny

((This is another short chapter. A clip between Oliver and Johnny))

* * *

Oliver came home and placed his briefcase on the floor. Mary, still dressed in her nightgown met him in the foyer. They hugged in silence.

"Did the doctor phone?"

Mary shook her head.

Oliver sighed. He noticed the faint hint of tears in Mary's eyes and hugged her. "It's okay, Honey, I'm sure Doctor Ullstrom is doing all he can to find out what's wrong with Johnny."

Mary clutched her husband, a rock in a torrent of emotions. "Wh-what if there's nothing wrong? What if Johnny's... just like this normally?"

Oliver shook his head. "No, no. You can't think like that, sweetie. Once the doctors find out what's wrong they can fix him and he'll be just like every other baby. He'll smile at you. He'll laugh when you touch him. He'll cry at three in the morning for food and we'll have an argument over who should go feed him."

Mary laughed weakly through her tears. "And he'll spit up his mashed peas."

"Yeah. And he'll start to say mama and dada."

"But it'll just sound like noises."

"And we'll laugh."

Mary sniffed and wiped her eyes, smiling at the visions of the future.

Oliver stroked her hair. "Go wash up and get ready for bed, I'll look in on Johnny."

Mary nodded and moved to the bathroom.

Oliver slowly approached Johnny's nursery. Faint streaks of moonlight slashed the beige carpet. He approached the crib. Johnny lay, eyes open, unfocused. His mouth closed and unsmiling. Oliver leaned over the crib bars and gazed levelly at his baby. So helpless. It was so tempting to just pick up a pillow and place it over the baby's face. So much sorrow and tension just gone. Snuffed out.

Johnny had caused so much grief and pain for Mary. Oliver's heart broke whenever he saw her tears. He just wished her to be happy yet here she was... miserable. And all because of one little being. Tiny and defenceless.

Oliver sighed and moved away. Killing Johnny would just cause more grief. He would alienate himself from Mary, from society. The cons outweighed the pros quite a bit. And yet...

Oliver couldn't help wishing Johnny didn't exist.

* * *

((I'm spoiling people, giving two chapters in a row. The next one will be longer and will actually have plot!)) 


	5. Nothing Wrong

Disclaimer: I do not own Johnny

((Yay! More fans! I feel special! This chapter is SO random in the beginning.

Rai829: It shall be soon Bwahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!))

* * *

_"There's nothing wrong with your son. However, just to be safe, we would ask you to continue bringing him back so we can monitor his progress. Here's the card of a good therapist."_

Mary sat on the couch, the television nattering away, in a pool of utter despair. It had only been a few months after the doctor had broke the news yet her emotions had not climbed the steep mountain to normalcy. Johnny was screaming in the next room. Mary ignored him, knowing he was, once again, screaming about nothing.

He was almost one year old and had yet to say anything other than wordless cries. He grew surprisingly fast for how little food he ate. His body was already going from baby chubbiness to... not normal toddler chubbiness but something that scared Mary. Something that was hard and full of sharp angles, with no pity, no mercy. Perhaps... it was only Mary's imagination but she knew, and Oliver knew that Johnny was developing into something that none of the parenting books they bought could help them with.

Mary almost yelled at Johnny to shut up but couldn't gain the energy to bother. She just listened to his screeching, the television a low murmuring. He stopped. Mary sighed and closed her eyes against a headache. Oliver had agreed to check out the therapist and some other specialists to help Johnny develop into someone who could fit into society. Mary still held out on the hope that someone would find out what was wrong with him and fix him. Then she could have a normal baby to cuddle and whisper sweet nothings to.

Right now she had a howling mass of meat. Mary opened her eyes and squeeked. Standing in front of her, glaring with (black?) eyes was Johnny. He had grown a messy mop of black hair that fell over his shadowed eyes. It would have looked cute if not for the cold, (black?) eyes and sickly yellow skin.

"H-how did you get out here, and how can you walk?!"

Johnny just stared at her, not blinking.

Mary chuckled nervously, "come on, Johnny, you need to go back to bed."

Johnny lifted an arm and pointed behind her. "You've bug."

Mary blinked in shock then turned and looked behind her. Nothing. She turned back and saw that Johnny was no longer there. Had it been a dream? A hallucination? Mary got up, full of nervous energy, and walked to Johnny's nursery. She carefully peered into the dark room.

She tiptoed to the crib, afraid of something she couldn't name. Images too fast to see clearly flickered through her mind as she leaned over to check on her baby.

He wasn't there.

Mary blinked and checked again.

He still wasn't there.

Mary pushed down her initial panic and glanced about the room. It was quite shadowy but not dark enough for a boy to hide in. She moved out into the hall, glancing side to side to look into the shadows. Living room. No Johnny. Kitchen. No Johnny.

Mary, breathing heavily, feeling the panic rising like a tidal wave sat on the couch and closed her eyes. She had to think logically about this. Where would Johnny go? He's barely one, he can't walk. She had no idea how he had got out of his crib but there you go, surprises around every corner. Perhaps he was hiding in a laundry basket. Or maybe under the couch.

Mary opened her eyes and jumped. Johnny was sitting in front of the television, staring with wide eyes at an old movie that was playing. Mary glanced around, confused.

"How did you get here?"

Johnny didn't reply, just stared at the television.

Mary gazed with trepidation at her child, so absorbed in watching the television. "You shouldn't sit that close. You'll wreck your eyes."

Johnny didn't respond.

Mary shifted uncomfortably on the couch. She wanted Johnny back in his crib but dared not touch him. And so she watched Johnny while Johnny watched the movie.

* * *

Oliver came home and found Mary asleep with Johnny sitting close to the television on the late night movie channel. Oliver tiptoed up to Johnny and clamped his hand over the boys' mouth. Johnny immediately began screaming and twisting away from his father, trying to avoid all contact. Oliver struggled to hold onto the writhing child and muffle his cries at the same time while he brought him into his room. Oliver tossed Johnny into his crib. The boy landed hard and thumped his arm against a crib bar. Johnny, however, did not cry out. He merely righted himself and stared at his father. Oliver shuddered under the gaze and quickly closed the door. 

He went back to check on Mary and smiled. She looked so peaceful sleeping like that. He loved seeing her like that, happy, content. Maybe he would do something special for her tomorrow. It was his day off, he had already talked to the therapist and two doctors, Mary deserved something special. A break from Johnny. Then again, he'd have to find a babysitter. The Jamesons' daughter was old enough to babysit, he'd phone tomorrow and ask.

* * *

Eileen knocked on the C.'s door and waited. She was sixteen, going to High School and looking for a job. When Mr. C. phoned and asked if she could babysit she had readily agreed, eager for cash. Eileen had only seen Johnny twice; once at a house party where she saw him in a carrier all bundled up. He creeped her out, staring and all, so she avoided the carrier all night. And once when Mrs. C. came over to talk to Mom. Again, he creeped her out and she stayed far away. Eileen had also only taken care of her own baby brother –now two- a few times but she felt she could handle Johnny. She had heard Mrs. C. talk about the problems Johnny had and Eileen had dreamed of babies that didn't need to be fed and whose cries could be ignored. Of course, that had been when she was still sleeping in the same house as a cranky baby. 

The door opened and Eileen smiled at Mr. C. He smiled back and gestured for her to come in. Eileen did and almost immediately heard a screeching cry. Like nails down a chalkboard it rose in all of its scraping glory and stayed at a peak for quite a while before descending into more of a normal shriek. Oliver rolled his eyes.

Eileen tried to drown out the ringing in her ears. "What was **that**?"

"Johnny's been screaming like that all day. Mary thinks it's because we moved a chair in his room. I think it's because he somehow knows we're leaving."

Eileen could hardly believe that something as... new as Johnny could understand that something was different but kept silent out of respect for the parents of a new baby.

Oliver turned and dug around in his pocket. "The instructions are written on a sheet of paper but they're not really that hard. He's already been fed so he'll be okay for the rest of the night. If you have to change his diaper then ignore his screaming; it's normal. He doesn't sleep, so don't worry about waking him but he doesn't like lots of noise. If he starts crying, ignore him, he'll stop eventually."

"But how will I know to change his diaper?"

"Don't worry, you'll know. A diaper scream sounds different from other screams. Oh yeah," Oliver found the paper and handed it to Eileen. "He doesn't like to be touched." He turned towards the rest of the house. "Mary! Time to go!"

Mary, looking tired and slightly dishevelled but better than usual appeared around the corner and plucked her purse from the rack.

Eileen, remembering her manners, smiled. "Don't worry, Mr. And Mrs. C., I'll be sure to take good care of Johnny."

Oliver muttered something that sounded an awful lot like "stick him in the oven and I'll consider him taken care of," but Eileen couldn't fathom why he would say that so she decided she had misheard him.

Mary smiled, "don't worry, we know."

They left.

Eileen was alone. With Johnny.

* * *

((Muahahahahahaha, cliffhanger!!!)) 


	6. The Babysitter

Disclaimer: I do not own Johnny

* * *

Johnny stared. Eileen stared back. 

Johnny had stopped screaming a while ago. Eileen, curious about this "poor baby" her parents kept talking about when they thought she wasn't listening, had gone into the nursery to see. She saw a small baby with wide, bruised eyes and very messy black hair. He was a little skinnier than she thought a normal baby-or toddler, was he old enough to be considered a toddler?- should be but Eileen remembered Mrs. C. mentioning how little he ate and decided it was normal for him.

Eileen stared. Johnny's eyes drifted over to his mobile where he focused with frightening intensity.

Eileen got bored and walked out of the nursery. She found the C.'s television and happily settled down.

* * *

Voices hissed. Johnny listened.

* * *

Eileen turned up the volume on the T.V when Johnny started screaming. She revelled in the lack of responsibility. Her friend, called Puss but really named Fiona, would love to have this job. Eileen grinned and picked up the phone. She dialled Puss's number and waited for her to pick up.

* * *

"Movie...movie... movie..." Johnny glanced over to the propped open door. The faint flickering light bespoke the television. Johnny loved the television.

* * *

Puss picked up. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, girlfriend!"

"Eileen? What's that **sound**?"

"Oh, that's just the kid I'm babysitting."

"Shouldn't you be seeing if he's okay?"

"Nah, this one's that kid I was telling you about."

"Oh my god! You mean the one that you don't have to do anything with?"

"Yeah! It's SO great! I can just ignore him and not get in trouble for it!"

Johnny's cries stopped and Eileen sighed with relief.

"Oh... My... God! I have GOT to get that job! That would be, like, so awesome!"

"I know." Eileen turned around and shrieked.

"Eileen? Eileen?! What's wrong?"

"N-nothing. Just hang on for a sec."

"...Okay."

Eileen put the phone on the coffee table.

"Johnny? What are you doing out of your crib?"

Johnny didn't reply, just gazed with fascinated intensity at the flickering television.

"How did you get out, anyway? You can't even walk yet."

Johnny turned around and focused his burning black eyes on her. Eileen involuntarily stepped back, a chill prickling her spine.

"Shhhhhhh." Johnny turned back to the T.V.

Eileen laughed at herself nervously. _What am I getting scared over? He's barely one. I'm three times his size. I just have to pick him up and carry him back to bed. Wait... Mr. C. said he didn't like being touched. Oh well, I can handle him._

Eileen approached Johnny rather tentatively. When the child didn't respond she gained a little confidence and lunged, one hand grabbing Johnny's arm, the other his neck.

Johnny screamed.

Eileen flinched and almost lost her grip on his writhing body but maintained it. She began to drag him backwards, unable to manage anything else because of his twisting.

Johnny was panicking. Someone's warm, sticky hands were on him, touching... touching his SKIN! He had to... had to... LEAVE! GET AWAY! AWAY!!!!!

Eileen had almost dragged Johnny through the living room and into the kitchen when the child stopped trying to escape her and began struggling merely to relieve her hands on him. She dodged a flying foot and angrily released her hand on his neck and grabbed the next foot that came towards her. Johnny's screams rode higher in pitch and his unencumbered arm flew towards her face. Eileen, becoming slightly afraid, dodged the arm and redoubled her efforts to get him into his nursery.

Johnny had been dragged partway into the hallway when his foot smashed into Eileen's face. Blood burst from her nose and her grip relaxed. She slumped to the carpet, unconscious but not dead. Johnny stared, silent.

His little brain was smart, much more developed than others his age but it had trouble processing what had just happened considering his experiences had been rather limited. He gazed at the expanding blood pool and was momentarily distracted by its sparkling redness.

Johnny's brain mulled it over. Johnny's brain decided that to get people to let go, hitting them would accomplish the task. Johnny's brain set about rewiring the struggle neurons into fighting neurons.

Johnny tottered into the living room (He had been practising in his room at night.) and watched the rest of the television program. When it was done he tottered into his nursery, avoiding the spreading pool of blood, and clambered into his crib where he sat until his parents came home.

"Eileen? Eileen? Hello? Hello? Is something wrong? Hello?"

* * *

((I bet you all thought she was going to be Johnny's first victim, didn't you?)) 


	7. Conundrum

"And then he kicked him!"

Mary laughed as she placed the key into the door and turned. "Oh, Oliver, this was wonderful! I... I feel young again!"

"You're always young to me, Mary."

Mary giggled, "don't be silly, Olly."

"I'm not, Mary. Despite all we've been through, and all we'll probably end up going through, I still love you. I'm still here. And I always will be."

Mary looked down at her shoes, blushing fiercely. "Well... I-I love you too... and even though I-I'm not perfect-"

"No, no, no! You **are **perfect!"

"B-but I created... a baby that isn't..."

"I contributed to the creation of that same baby, Mary! Who knows, it might even be some freak accident that caused Johnny to turn out like he did! Whatever happened, it's **not your fault**!"

Mary sighed, "I-I know. I just can't help but think..."

Oliver reached out and grasped her hand in his. "It's not your fault. You're absolutely, utterly perfect."

Mary looked into her husbands eyes and smiled. "Th-thank you." She opened the door and began walking inside. "I believe I've just been reminded why I married you."

Both of them entered the foyer and slid off their shoes. Mary quietly moved out of the foyer and into the kitchen.

"Eileen?"

Oliver hung up his coat and flicked on the kitchen light. Mary gasped.

Light glinted off a congealing puddle of blood, oozing lazily from the collapsed Eileen's nose. She lay, unmoving, partway into the hallway. She had been bleeding for quite a while and was still in shock. Mary gaped in horror.

"Oh, oh... Olly... what do we do?"

"Are her parents... home?"

"Well, we can't phone her parents! They would think Johnny did this!"

Oliver looked at his wife in utter disbelief. "He **did**."

"No... no, no... Johnny wouldn't have been able to. He's barely one!"

"And stronger, more temperamental than any other one year old I've seen or heard about! How many one year olds can lift the coffee table over their head?"

"Well... she could have tripped... hit her... face."

"There's nothing to hit! We stopped putting things in the hallway when Johnny pulled down that old vase!"

"Well... um..." Mary, having run out of situations, turned to Oliver. "Well... how could you consider that Johnny did it? He's just a baby!"

"Mary, he rips spiders legs off! He killed Mrs. Mave's cat!"

"You can't prove that! All they did was find him playing with the collar."

"A **bloody **collar, with pieces of fur on it."

"That doesn't prove anything!"

"Maybe not to other people but **we **know! We've **seen **what Johnny can do! You've seen him lift the coffee table! I've seen him rip the heads off his toys!"

"That... that..."

Unbeknownst to Mary or Oliver Johnny had crawled from his crib into the hallway. He sat, watching his parents argue with a detached interest. When he became bored he opened his clenched fist. He held an ambulance in his tiny hand, one of the toys he never played with. He held it up and tried to simulate what other children had done on television; play with it.

Mary and Oliver's argument halted at a sound that came from below. They both glanced down. Johnny was moving the tiny ambulance through the air, making a rather pathetic siren sound.

Oliver could have sworn Johnny raised an eyebrow.


	8. Retarded Child

Mary sliced the letter opener through the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper inside it. She skimmed the phone bill and paused at a line.

"Oliver?"

Oliver, brushing his teeth in the bathroom, spit out the toothpaste foam before answering. "Yeah?"

"Do we know anyone with a 678 phone number?"

Oliver checked his teeth in the mirror, "mmmmm... not that I'm aware of."

"Really? It seems we made a phone call to someone with a 678."

Oliver decided his teeth were clean and walked out into the hallway. "Do the Follor's have a 678?"

Mary tapped her pen against the table in thought. "... I don't think so."

Oliver poked his head in the kitchen doorway, "have you seen my shoes?"

"In the closet, under that grey coat you never wear."

Oliver turned and began rooting in the closet. "When did we phone them?"

Mary glanced at the bill. "Ohhhhh, it must have been Eileen."

"Why? Did she phone on her babysitting day?"

"Yes. And apparently the phone was off the hook for a few hours."

Oliver found his shoes and proceeded to put them on. "How much do we owe?"

"Quite a bit. We better not hire her again."

Oliver paused in tying his shoelaces. "We **can't** hire her. She refuses to come near our house again."

Mary paused, her brow furrowing. "Oh... well, I guess we need a new babysitter."

Oliver paused in reaching for his coat and sighed, leaning his forehead against the wall. "No one will come near our house. Eileen told everyone in her school about Johnny and they told others so now no kid will babysit for us."

Mary felt a headache growing behind her eyes and blinked. "Well... we need to find a babysitter."

Oliver did up the last button on his coat and slumped his shoulders. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed his briefcase off the table. "Yes, honey, we need to find a babysitter." He kissed her on the cheek and walked to the front door.

Mary followed him and waved goodbye. "See you later, sweetie, I'll be sure to phone around for a babysitter."

Oliver gave her a weak smile and closed the door. He walked to his car and paused. Johnny's first appointment with the therapist was coming up but Oliver couldn't help thinking he should also book an appointment for Mary. If he suggested it to her she would brush him off and say nothing was wrong with her. Yet instances such as the one he had just left occurred too often for his comfort. Mary seemed to be trying to convince herself that Johnny was normal, or relatively normal.

Oliver shook his head. No, no, that was all wrong. She was trying to believe Johnny wasn't dangerous. That all his headless toys were merely the silly whims of a little child. That all of his tantrums, the bruises on her arms, the blood on his nails, was nothing to be worried about. Oliver leaned against the car, having lost the will to keep himself upright. He just... he just didn't know what to do anymore.

Oliver righted himself and took a deep breath. The therapist would find out what was wrong with Johnny. He had to keep believing that. If he didn't... well, he tried not to think about that.

Oliver opened the car door, started the car, and drove off to work.

* * *

Mary sat at the kitchen table for a while after Oliver left. She stared vacantly at the clock on the wall. _What was she doing, again? _Mary looked around, puzzled. A high pitched, spine tingling scream came from the living room followed by a soft thud. Johnny had taken up a new game where he stood on the couch and threw a toy car into the air, screaming because the occupants could not, and watched the car hit the floor. Mary sighed. _At least he's not throwing anything else. _Another shriek and a thud. 

Mary glanced over at the sink and perked up. Dishes. She could do the dishes. Happy to have something to do, Mary began washing the dishes.

Minutes ticked by.

Mary was just putting away the last plate when something hit the back of her head very painfully. Sighing in resignation Mary turned and faced her son. Johnny glared up at her, eyes narrowed almost to slits, a small toy car clenched in his fist.

"What do you want, sweetie?"

Johnny cocked his fist back and threw the car at Mary. It hit her forehead and she flinched.

"Okay... do you want some crackers?"

An action figure hit her between the eyes, the plastic fingers scraping her nose. Mary wiped the blood off and smiled.

"...hmmmm... oh! I know, you want cherry yogurt, don't you?"

Johnny paused. His fist opened, the toy hummer falling to the linoleum. He grinned. It looked rather frightening but Mary took all of the smiles she could get and the mention of cherries always made her little boy smile. Mary moved over to the fridge and searched for the yogurt she had bought for Johnny. Johnny stood behind her, arms forward, hands open, waiting for his cherries. Mary moved the pickle jar and grinned.

"Here it is!" She lifted it out of the fridge. "Here's a spoon, and here's your yogurt."

Johnny strangled the yogurt in his arms and clenched the spoon in his fist. He began shovelling cherry yogurt into his tiny mouth, yogurt dribbling down his chin.

"What do we say when someone gives us something?"

Johnny drew the yogurt even closer to his body and hissed at her. Mary grinned.

"Gooood, Johnny! Now, go eat your yogurt in front of the television. I turned it to the horror movie channel for you."

Johnny tottered into the living room and sat in front of the T.V, still shovelling yogurt into his mouth.

Mary sighed and hummed to herself. Ever since Oliver and her had discovered Johnny's love of cherries feeding him had become a lot easier. Of course, Johnny had highly irregular feeding times and often woke them up at two in the morning with a well placed toy car begging for some ice cream with cherry sauce but at least he was eating SOMETHING. There had been a few months before the discovery when Johnny had hardly eaten anything for weeks, scaring the hell out of his parents.

Mary wiped down the table and sighed. She missed her friends, she missed interacting with someone who didn't throw things at her. Mary glanced almost guiltily at the phone book beside the phone. She was so lonely... but Johnny... Mary took a deep breath. She would invite a few of her friends over. Mostly the ones who had left at minimum three messages on the machine, wondering where she was and if they could see the new baby. Mary flipped the phone book open and scanned the tiny, cramped words. Just a few...

* * *

Jane was delighted when Mary called her up. Everyone had been wondering where the hell she had been until, through the grapevine, they heard she had a baby. Immediately, Jane and Kim had phoned Mary asking to see the bundle of joy. When their messages went unanswered several friends feared she had birthed some sort of demon and been eaten by it. Jane knew all of that speculating was utter nonsense and figured Mary, being a new mother, was a little shy and maybe swamped with new work. So Jane, Kim and Franny had waited in breathless anticipation by their phones for almost a year until their various rings echoed throughout their homes. 

"Hello?"

"Um... Jane?"

"MARY?! Oh My God! We thought you were dead or something!"

"Oh... hehe... no, no, just... very busy with-"

"The new baby?!" Jane squealed, "is it a boy or a girl?"

"A-a... boy."

"What's his name?"

"J-Johnny," There was a shuffle as Mary turned away from the phone. "No,no, sweetie, I'm not talking to you. I'm on the phone... Phhhhoooone. Yes, go watch your movie."

"So?"

"Um... so?"

"So when do we get to meet him?"

"Um... well I was thinking this weekend... Johnny has a therapist appointment tomorrow so..."

"That would be great!"

"D-do you think you could phone Franny and Kim for me? Johnny doesn't like it when I'm on the phone."

There was a pause.

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure but it's one of the reasons he's having a therapist look at- OW!... Johnny, don't throw the cutlery at mommy! Stop-OW! Stop hitting... I'm on the ph-OW! I gotta go, Jane I-OOOW! Knives are a HUGE NO NO!"

There was a click as Mary placed the phone back in the cradle.

Jane stared at the phone for a while, a bewildered look on her face. _Maybe she never invited us because she had a retarded child?_


	9. To the Therapist!

It was the dreaded day of d-day. The therapist appointment was nigh. Oliver tied his tie, muttering under is breath. Mary was in the kitchen, humming as she smushed cherries for Johnny's crackers. Johnny sat at the kitchen table, happily impaling it with a small steak knife he had stolen from the cutlery drawer.

"Oliver, what do you think we should pack for lunch?"

"Sandwiches sound nice."

"Do you think Johnny will eat smushed cherries again for lunch?"

"Hmmm... bring some along anyways but pack something else. I'm certain the therapist will want to see Johnny's aversion to other foods."

Mary considered the food before her. Johnny, behind her, was licking the cherries off his crackers and tossing the soggy snacks with unerring accuracy at the furnace vent in the floor, the thin crackers sliding into the grate slits. Mary thought, then moved over to the fridge and opened it. She searched in the back and found an old taco from a while ago. She placed it in the lunch kit and added some unsmushed cherries and pieces of bread.

"Are you ready, Olly?"

Oliver walked into the kitchen and kissed her cheek, "Mmmhmm." He glanced at her hands, "Do you have the bribe?"

Mary smiled and turned to her son. Johnny, mildly interested watched her with an unblinking gaze. Mary lifted her fist and opened it.

Johnny stared. He had never seen it before, a completely new thing. Round, brown, firm and ripe.

A chocolate cherry.

Mary dangled the cherry in front of Johnny for a few seconds before popping it into her own mouth and adopting a look of pure bliss. "Mmmmm." She lifted another one from her pocket and glanced inquiringly at Johnny. "You want one?"

Johnny almost fell off his chair trying to reach the cherry, a look of concentrated earnestness on his face.

Mary tsked and popped the cherry in her mouth. "I'm not sure. What do you think Oliver?"

Oliver rubbed his chin. Johnny, long ago having understood Oliver's dislike of him, hissed and glared at his adversary before returning to reaching for the treat. "Well..."

Mary touched Oliver's arm. "He seems to really want it, sweetie."

Johnny nodded vigorously and slid off his chair, jumping up, flailing at the cherry above him.

Oliver nodded, "very well, but only if he behaves on the way to the therapists."

Johnny paused at this. He stared at the cherry above him, considering. Finally, after several breath-holding moments he nodded and lifted his arms, palms up to receive his cherry.

Mary dropped one of the chocolate cherries into Johnny's tiny palms and the child immediately stuffed it into his mouth, chewing slowly to savour the taste.

Oliver, seeing Johnny accept the terms, quickly went into action. He threw Johnny's coat and shoes at him then handed Mary her own coat. Mary put it on and slid into her shoes. Johnny struggled out of the mess of clothes and put on his coat with the clumsiness of a one year old who doesn't want help. Oliver checked that everyone was dressed and all was in order before flying out the door. Mary handed another cherry to Johnny and used that distraction to herd him out the door the best she could without touching him.

Johnny happily allowed himself to be herded and hopped into the van, doing up his own seatbelt and settling down, savouring the taste of sugar and sweetness in his mouth.

Mary turned around from the passenger seat and handed Johnny another cherry before Oliver started the vehicle and drove off.

The drive to the therapist's was fraught with tension as Oliver was sure Johnny would forget his promise and explode into some sort of deadly tantrum while Mary struggled to prove her husband wrong by anticipating Johnny's need for more chocolate cherries and handing them back at a break neck speed. Johnny himself seemed completely oblivious, merely enjoying the rare treat.

Mary ran out of cherries at the exact moment Oliver pulled into the building's parking lot in a weird and insane twist of strange fate. Johnny was not pleased and scowled the whole way into the building. It did not help that they walked by screaming and howling children who just begged to have their heads bashed in. Johnny's tiny fists clenched, his teeth gritted, grinding together with fury as the shrieks of little children scraped across his last (and very short) nerve. Oliver and Mary were much too busy trying to find the therapists door to look down at their son and notice the murderous glint in his eyes.

They did, eventually, find the therapists door and walked into a comfortable waiting room. Johnny, still feeling the cold hand of death, noticed the toys on the floor and brightened. Oliver flopped into a padded chair and glanced apathetically at the various magazines spread about on the end tables. Mary settled herself a little more delicately on her chair and nervously fiddled with her purse. There were other people in the waiting area. A mother sat beside a teenage boy who slumped angrily in his chair. Two couples sat beside eachother, watching their toddlers anxiously.

Johnny couldn't care less about the other children playing with the toys for the only one he saw was a monstrosity of wire and beads. Johnny sat down and stared at it, trying to uncover its secrets.

Mary glanced at the other couples and smiled nervously. One of the females, obviously a veteran of the therapist office, smiled back.

"Hi, I'm Elaine."

"um... I'm Mary."

Elaine pointed at Johnny, "Is that your little boy?"

Mary nodded, "h-his name is Johnny."

Hearing his name, Johnny turned and stared at Mary. He narrowed his eyes and glared, perturbed someone had disturbed his scrutiny. One of the other children took his distraction as an opportunity and grabbed the wire and bead toy. Johnny's head whipped around, his fists clenched. Oliver got up quickly and moved forward to intercept his son. However, he was too late and Johnny's fist slammed into the other toddlers face. Oliver managed to grab Johnny around the waist and pull him away just as he lifted a second fist. Johnny immediately shrieked and proceeded to smash his fists into Oliver's arms and drag his nails through his flesh.

Elaine rushed forward and picked up her own sobbing child. The toddler clung to his mothers' shirt, blood oozing from his nose. Elaine glared at Oliver, who was desperately trying to unlatch Johnny's nails from his bloody skin.

"Look what your child did!" She pointed to her toddlers' bloody nose.

Oliver gave up as Johnny's feet began to hit him and merely flung the boy away from him. Johnny hit the floor with a squeak of surprise and sat there for a few moments, dazed into complacency. Elaine's eyes widened and she clutched her toddler closer, staring at Oliver. The man in question turned to Mary and held out a hand. Mary placed an anti-bacterial wipe in his hand and he proceeded to wipe away the blood and clean his scratches.

Mary looked over at Elaine and smiled sadly, "I'm sorry, but... Johnny's kind of violent. That's why we're here, really."

Elaine snorted, "**kind of violent?** He just hit my child without provocation!"

"Well... no, you see your child touched the toy Johnny was playing with and-"

"He was staring at it! He wasn't playing with it!"

"That's how Johnny plays... initially. He eventually ends up throwing it but-"

As if on cue Johnny recovered from his violent toss and picked up the nearest toy (a pony). Oliver noticed this out of the corner of his eye and managed to dodge as it came flying towards his head. He did not, however, evade the car and it delivered a very poignant thunk to his temple. Oliver groaned and slumped into a chair. Johnny threw a plastic house at him.

One of the other parents watched the drama then turned to Oliver. "Why don't you make him stop?"

A Legotm figure whacked Oliver's forehead. "Because there is no way to stop him."

The man shook his head, "Nonsense, a little smack here and there-"

"Very well, then, **you **try." Johnny had discovered the Legotm box and was having the most fun of his life with the many-coloured projectiles.

The man got up and walked over to Johnny. He grabbed Johnny's arm and said in a very loud, stern voice, "NO!" Johnny's initial surprise caused him to pause for a few seconds before he turned around and kicked the man. Normally, a toddlers' kick is something painful but not debilitating, however Johnny put all of his unusual strength behind that kick and so there was a very audible snap as the man's shin protested. The man screamed and stumbled back, falling heavily into a chair. His wife gasped and pulled out her cellphone, dialling 911 in haste. Johnny, satisfied no one was bothering him, forgot his previous activity and sat down in front of the wire and bead toy to stare at it again.

Mary held her head in her hands and groaned. A bleeding toddler and five horrified and angry parents. She wondered how she was going to explain to the therapist why his patients were writhing in pain when the receptionist called out,

"Mr. And Mrs. C? Doctor Hollum will see you now."

Mary gratefully got up and grabbed Johnny's arm (which resulted in fresh bruises and a shrieking child). Oliver, bleeding halted, followed Mary into the therapist's office. Outside, an ambulance wailed.


End file.
